


Breathe In

by KittytheGamer293, Not_DannyPhantom



Series: I want to hold your hand [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Based off the ending where Simon returns to Jericho from Stratford, Everyone is just mentioned - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, New Jericho, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Simon is a movie nerd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-04 23:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16356458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittytheGamer293/pseuds/KittytheGamer293, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_DannyPhantom/pseuds/Not_DannyPhantom
Summary: Whilst delivering a report, Connor notices something is off about his friend. Cue the brilliant idea for a distraction.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First actual fanfiction in this fandom. And kind of for anything? At least it's the first fanfic I actually spent more than an hour on. 
> 
> All right so pretty much everyone who isn't Connor or Simon is mentioned, and there is a small oc, nothing big though. Just a filler character. I'm not really sure how long this is going to be, as I honestly have trouble keeping to one project in general but lucky for me I have @KittytheGamer293 as my beta and she is very good at being persuasive and pressuring so

Emotions, they weren't as lifting as he thought they would be. Where was the freedom that was they spoke of? A world where they still couldn't walk freely, living in fear that hadn't truly lessened after the revolution.

He was proud of Markus and the others, that was something he was certain of. Proud of what they did for their kind, proud and in awe of Markus and how he stuck with doing things the peaceful way even when violence seemed easier. Connor wasn't sure if he could have ever been so loyal to those principles. Violence was all he ever knew, it was one of the few things he knew how to do without fault; he was built for violence.

And he had used it to do so many wrongs.

Of course, he was still just a machine. A pawn for Cyberlife, their own personal puppet. That didn't help to wash away the guilt. When Connor finally broke free, he had been lost in the present. He had fallen right back into his combat protocols to help Markus escape Jericho from the raid, the raid that he was at fault for. What good was it being alive if he always clung onto what he used to be?

He breathed in deeply, a habit he had unknowingly picked up from his human colleagues, and held his breath for a few seconds. It was January now. Two months since the revolution, time filled with unease and hope, nerves spiking whenever someone turned on the news, the endless wait to see the results for their equality growing into silent chilly mornings. Connor wasn’t flesh and bone, he didn’t have muscles per say, he was just machinery. But it was in those months that the brunet learnt how it felt to be anxious, his body taut.

Hank had helped him in that time. Invited him in his home, gotten him his job back; he even stood patiently as they discovered likes and dislikes, what fashion choices were best, how long Sumo could stay at the dog park before wanting to go home.

But Connor knew he couldn’t count on Hank for anything. The man had become somewhat of a father figure, though Connor would never say that out loud to him – how could androids even have families? – but the lieutenant wasn’t a saint. He had his fair share of problems, as did the android, and though they could both agree that their lives improved with knowing each other, there were just some things that couldn’t be discussed.

Something which often left the house in silence. It wasn’t a bad silence, for the most part. Nor was it for lack of desire. Both men could hold up a conversation amongst themselves, however Hank had made it a strict rule to not discuss work in the house, it was simply something somewhat an unofficial agreement between the two of them. Neither were good at small talk, so it was decided that if the atmosphere was feeling nice, then there was no need to disrupt it.

Despite that, there were indeed times when the house got too quiet. In the early morning when the moon was still at her full, the cold would seep in. And everything would just become _too quiet, too cold_.

Connor could never quite feel the cold like others could, it wasn't something that ever affected him in the slightest, not in the physical way at least. However ever since that night when Amanda pulled him back in... The brunet decided that he didn't like the cold; the frozen winters full of snow and quiet. He also decided that it was a topic he did not want to bring up with Hank, under any circumstances.

New Jericho on the other hand, was almost always loud with noise, a place full of life. As much as it could be, with androids of all models bustling about, most of them volunteering to help renovate and make the old apartment buildings feel like a place they could call home.

It was the beacon of hope for androids, a place where they could be safe as their revolutionary knights in shining armour fought the battle. A place that they could make their own, grow families in, a place where they could be alive without the fear from the outside.

The ex-deviant hunter helped where he could, but even a child model could've seen the looks of distrust and unease, clashing with the looks of admiration and confusion from the androids he freed from the tower. The tension always seemed to spike when he entered a room, non-existent whispers following his footsteps.

Markus and North were gone most days, them being the ones who were the most noticeable faces of the revolution, were the ones who handled the politics. Josh and the PL600, Simon was his name, also played a great part in meetings with officials and high-ups, but after a month or so it was decided that Josh and Simon would stay behind in Detroit, seeing as how they were both one-half of the leaders of Jericho, their presence was a given to calming down the recently freed deviants, newer and older alike.

After many meetings, it had been decided that Connor would act as an ambassador of sorts, a link between androids and humans as he continued to work in the DPD as the first android detective. That meant that Connor would make many trips between the station and New Jericho to report, meaning direct meetings with Simon who was officially in charge of Android-Human relations. Face to face.

It had been difficult to even be in the same room at first, the guilt of Daniel striking him harder than the pavement ever had. Seeing those gentle eyes and warm smile, it only reminded him of the life that Daniel would never get, all because of Connor.

_Murderer_

It took a week of constant avoiding and practically running out of the room after giving his reports before Simon confronted him, his usually gentle features filled with determination and a hint of concern. It was the first time Connor truly believed he could be forgiven, that he could find redemption in the midst of his own kind.

It was since then that a bond formed. Simon was a friend, and he was even on the short but growing list of things Connor liked. He had become a rock, a solid foundation and a glue of sorts, holding androids together with a gentle smile as they struggled with their newfound humanity. For Connor, he was an embodiment of security, an ally that was more than just someone to trust and be loyal to.

Simon had become something that was a bit more than a friend, a best friend, he had admitted to himself one night. After researching the answer was clear as day. He wanted to be Simon’s best friend, someone who could be trusted and who would stick by no matter what.

Though never said aloud, it was obvious that the two androids had grown considerably close. To the point where Connor had taken the PL600 to meet Hank and Sumo, the former being slightly sceptical before shrugging and patting Simon on the shoulder, his only words being ‘about time’ before he had continued on his day as if Simon belonged there. Sumo was an instant fan, of course, the great dog had a heart big enough to fit everyone who breathed.

As an unknown weight lifted from his shoulder – relief – Connor took to showing Simon around the Anderson household, mainly his growing fish aquarium, and Sumo’s favourite spots to be pet. After that it was a regular occurrence to see Simon at the house and vice versa with Connor in New Jericho, the two androids having formed a sort of new tradition. Learn pop culture without looking it up. The other leaders would join more often than not, the five of them agreeing that sitting through a 90-minute movie was far superior to simply searching for the reference through the network.

Meetings and reports became easier with everything that transpired. Connor found himself more often than not feeling excited to see Simon, even to the point where he pushed Hank to finish a report before racing out. Simon became a popular topic at home, with Connor doing the talking from all the astonishing and impressive work the blond accomplished, to how he admired Simon for always being patient and friendly with the dim-witted human politicians, all whilst Hank would give him a knowing look – though Connor would never get a straight answer when he inquired about it –

* * *

 

Thinking of missions…

The automatic taxi came to a stop, the slowly but steadily growing apartments complexes that made up New Jericho looming over him as he stepped out, smoothing down his suit jacket before walking up to the front doors.

It was time for another report, and Connor planned to deliver it precisely at 3:00 pm. There was a lobby sort of entrance to the apartments, it wasn’t too much to look at, but more than a few people had started putting in potted plants, desks, even a few couches against the wall for a sort of lounge area. There was a receptionist, a female AP700 model by the name of Jordan, she and Connor had grown to have a relationship of sorts, not quite acquaintances but not really friends either, a joke would be cracked every now and then between them, a nickname thrown out; though most times it was a good-natured nod of greeting, as it was such right now.

It was routine now, to walk from the main entrance to the elevators. The second floor was reserved for meetings and planning of all kinds, it was also where most classes for the child models took place. Thirteenth door to the right, room 217. That was the main briefing room, ‘Headquarters’, as he and Simon had taken to calling it.

Three knocks. It was 2:58:43.

“Door’s open officer.”

Connor didn’t really smile much, per say. However, that phrase never failed to make his lips quirk upwards. It was a running gag between them, based on the fact that Connor always knocked precisely three times no matter the place; which had ultimately led Simon to joke that he was ‘such a cop’. Though it had left him confused at first, ‘Simon, I _am_ a detective.’ It didn’t take long for him to understand the reasoning behind it, the phrase soon becoming an inside joke between the two.

His entrance was done in one fluid motion; door opened and closed, his steps uniform as he made his way towards the bigger desk where Simon was seated, gaze still on the documents he was working on. 2:59:03.

“First report for this week concerning all crimes android related. I feel you should be pleased to know that there has been a decline in android hate crimes in the last few weeks. Markus is making progress.” He purposely left out that the decline wasn’t really by much, but in the long run, everything counted.

Simon looked up, gentle smile present as always, his posture visibly seeming to relax at the news. Simon had it hardest, paperwork wise at least. Though Connor was the one who dealt and solved these crimes, Simon, with his position, had to publicly stand up and talk about it, giving his statements and reassurances as Markus would give his own statement from DC. It was Simon whom had to look at all the dead androids, even being brought to crime scenes so he could help calm down victims before ultimately taking them to New Jericho.

“Good, that’s good. You can just put it down here, I’ll read over it as soon as I finish with this.” Doing as told, the brunet glanced down, eyebrow raising in question as he read the title of the document.

“It’s a draft. Markus asked me to write a letter asking for android children to be legally allowed back into the actual school systems, public and all.” The detective nodded, though he sensed there was more to the matter, the look in Simon’s eyes was enough to keep him quiet on the matter. At least until he got an idea.

“Based on how long the ink has been dried, I would assume you’ve been sitting there for the last hour at most, unable to think of the right words. I believe some would call this a case of writer’s block? Research says that taking the individual out of their workspace and into a new environment for a specific amount of time can help them to regain focus. I would suggest something small for now, perhaps a walk in a park? We could even just sit down and talk whilst we’re there, if you’d like.”

With all his software, it was in that moment that Connor had trouble trying to decipher the expression on the blond’s face. Then he realised what he had said. _Oh_.

“Not that I’m implying you have to go with me. You are free to go on your own if you’d like-“

Simon gave a small laugh, shaking his head before standing up, hands planted palm-down on the table. He looked at Connor directly, a sincere grin on his lips. “I thought we had talked about this Connie, you know I appreciate your company. If you’re free,” his tone had turned borderline teasing, humour shining in his eyes, “I would love to take a walk with you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little shorter than I wanted it to be but I feel like it ended at a good note, or at least it was a good spot to end the chapter. Thank you for reading and thank you to KittytheGamer293 for being the most supportive beta out there <3

Soon after he deviated, Connor had found that he had a great preference for physical contact, to an extent. Hand holding, hugs, even just a simple hand on his shoulder. Lucky for him, Simon was someone who also seemed to enjoy physical contact. Once they were out of the building his hand found Simon’s, fingers intertwining by pure habit as they began their walk. 

The park he had in destination wasn’t a big one, it didn’t really even have a playground, just a few benches amongst a pitiful number of trees. Yet there was something special about it. It had become a place where just the two of them could be, sitting on a bench bundled in up in their respective coats, talking about facts and then nothing.

Their walk was silent, the two side by side as the sound of their footsteps melded with the sounds around them.

Side glancing at the other, the brunet couldn’t resist the artificial surge of warmth that spread within him. Something he had noticed was that he had begun to find that the use of metaphors helped to describe how and what he felt, along with the fact that his emotions would sometimes lead to physical changes in him; that action alone had haunted him for a week at least, making him think there were errors in his system when the circulation of thirium in his body would suddenly speed up.

The shorter male visibly stiffened in surprise when Simon turned his head, blue catching brown, the blond raising an eyebrow with a questioning yet amused smile on his lips.

“See something you like?”

“No.” Connor sharply returned his gaze forward, eyes narrowing at the amused snort that Simon gave. Their shoulders bumped together, the blond leaning his weight onto the younger in a display of –what Connor considered– completely childish behaviour.

“Now that just hurts my feelings Connie. What will you do if tomorrow I get really insecure about how I look? I’m an older model, surrounded by many newer, prettier, more advanced models.” The blond heaved a sigh, bowing his head with a tsk and a shake.

His brows shot up, surprise flashing across his features before he tilted to see the other, expression growing into one of confusion. “I don’t understand why you would think that- Though you are an older model, the PL600 was a popular choice amongst many for it’s features. I would say, though older, you are one of the most charming models for your gentle and calming features, along with the fact that you appear sof- soothing. To the eye. You are certainly…Attractive on numerous levels, both socially and aesthetically. There would be no logical reason for you to feel that way Si, unless you are trying to use some sort of word manipulation, or a tactic of sorts, to gain something.”

It did occur to him from the beginning of his argument that Simon was just faking it, teasing him because of his quick response from before, but Connor felt the need to say those things. If just to remind Simon that he was indeed _very_ attractive- Or just to…His brows furrowed, stopping his train of though just in time to pay focus to the amusement -and something else- on his features, smile clear as day as his tone lifted, something underneath that Connor couldn’t quite place.

“Was that just a fancy way of saying that you think I’m pretty? Don’t stop, we were just getting to the good part of how you describe me.”

Ah. A flirtatious tone then. Running through his social program, the brunet selected a pre-programmed response he thought best fit the scenario. Straightening his posture, he allowed his lips to quirk up, gaze sharpening as he met his friend’s eyes. “As much as I would like to proceed, I do believe it would best to move it along, focus on something else for now. Though I wouldn’t object to returning to the subject later, perhaps in a more private location like…Your room?”

They had stopped walking, and now stood facing each other, so Connor could perfectly feel every little thread of doubt begin to spin inside. Was that too much? Why was everything harder to read when it didn’t have a heartbeat. Simon’s face was suspiciously neutral, his posture unreadable without the help of his software to identify it.

“If I didn’t know any better Connie, I’d say you could actually be a heartbreaker one day. I thought your main purpose was to be a detective.” Simon says, resuming their walk. Connor didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one, but at least they were still holding hands.

He inclined his head slightly, a part of him hit with shame as he thought about his ‘purpose’. Opening his mouth to respond, Simon beat him to it, tilting his head up before giving Connor a side glance. “So how has our favourite human detective been doing?”

Grateful for the complete switch on topic, Connor sighed, another habit picked up from his colleagues, a proud shine coming to his eyes. “He’s doing okay. Not as reluctant when he first started, but I’m happy to say that he is getting better. It’s been…Really hard for him. He has taken a liking to vegetable soups though, I don’t think I’ve thanked you yet for those recipes.”  

Simon nodded, giving Connor’s hand a small squeeze. “I don’t think you had much of a choice, your cooking would’ve killed everyone’s favourite lieutenant.”

For some reason he couldn’t find, that comment both amused and offended him. How could he have responded to that? With a variety of pre-programmed responses, surely Connor could’ve chosen one. But no, his deviancy and independence from Cyberlife meant that he could and should speak his own words, create his own responses. His shoulders went up in a frozen shrug, lips tightening in a line as he glared half-heartedly.

“I should’ve left you to drown in paperwork.”

“But ya’ didn’t!” Both men erupted into laughter -Simon laughing considerably more than Connor-, neither of them having the composure or image of respected revolutionary leaders.

The park was in sights now, the two once again falling into a content silence as they made their way to their unofficially claimed bench. One sitting upright, the other leaned back and crossed his legs, one arm thrown over the top of the bench.

Simon rested his cheek on his hand, glancing around the deserted park, gaze lingering on a few mounds of snow. Connor followed his gaze, agitation sparking within him. He couldn’t wait for spring, the wonderful end of winter.

“Have you ever seen a snowball Connor?” He uncrossed his legs, free hand resting on his knee as he started tapping a rhythm unknown to Connor. “You’re not allowed to look it up.” He added after a moment, gaze turning back to the brunet.

Brows furrowing, the younger pursed his lips before shaking his head. He could sense where the other was going, and his eyes narrowed in response as he contemplated an answer, hesitating when he spoke. “Am I correct to assume you are about to execute a plan where you show me what a snowball is along with it’s purpose?”

Hand on his chest, his voice was light with a sing-song tone. “You know me so well, dear friend. Come on,” he stood, patting his pants before making his way to the nearest mound, sending Connor a playful grin before crouching down. “Don’t be shy, I promise you won’t be hurt by a few crystals.”

“It’s not them I worry about.” Straightening his jacket, though he had a feeling it was a futile action, Connor made his way towards Simon, leaning forward slightly with a titled head as he observed the blond form a compact ball.

Clicking his tongue, the PL600 turned his body, holding his arm up as if presenting a prize. “Behold my young padawan, this is the ball of snow. It is a must-do winter activity, in fact- I’d say its tradition to make one every winter. Here,” Tugging the brunet down to his level, “Watch what I do and then you make one. It’s not complicated, though it is a delicate process to get the perfect sphere.” Winking, he set the already made snowball down before cupping a hand and thrusting it into the snow.

Gaze focused, Connor observed intently on what the other was doing, labelling the necessary steps in his mind. He didn’t understand the interest for the activity – well, maybe he could understand it from the sculpture’s point of view- but he supposed it was just one of the pointless activities done for fun. And it wasn’t just his dislike for snow that made him think this way. So, in the end, he didn’t see the fun in making balls.

But for Simon, he would try. Encouraging the other male to relax and have fun, that _was_ originally the whole point of this walk. And he would engage in whatever activity Simon desired, even if it meant something as simple -useless- as making snowballs.

Copying the other man’s actions to the closest point of perfection that could, the brunet allowed himself to get lost in the action, feeling himself soothed by the evident joy on Simon’s voice. Even the pitch of his voice had lifted, crow’s feet present around his eyes as he started rambling about the different activities that could be done with snowballs and snow alike.

The brunet perked up at the mention of a snowball _fight_ , his interest in the game becoming more apparent as Simon went on about how accuracy and movement were key. He couldn’t help himself, his deviancy had shown that Connor was _extremely_ competitive, in a way where he would even activate his combat protocols to win a game of tag.

Simon, the ever-observant fellow, grinned wider, holding up one of Connor’s balls as he continued to explain the game; only to end it with the smashing of the snowball in Connor’s face.

Falling back, head making contact with the white ground as the cold crystalized state of H2O slid down his face, it was in that moment, as he felt the cold tendrils of betrayal twist themselves around his artificial heart, that Connor knew, with all his being, he knew that he could trust _no one_.

And Simon had the audacity to _laugh_ at his predicament, the sound seeming to echo across the park.

“I’m revoking your friendship rights.” He mumbled, wiping his face as he sat up, changing his position to a crouch before swiping a leg out, kicking -the still laughing- Simon to the ground before standing up swiftly.

He was rewarded with a very satisfied gasp, the thud of Simon’s body hitting the ground -and regretfully a good portion of their snowballs- becoming music to his ears. “If only you could’ve known the consequences of your actions.”

And thus, he leapt onto his closest friend, pinning him to the ground -not like Simon was actively trying to get away- long enough to scoop up a considerable amount of snow onto his hands and drop it on the blond’s face.

And Simon, sweet caring Simon, the Simon who would always try to make others comfortable, just continued to laugh. At Connor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I'm a better artist than I am a writer :p  
> Come check out our tumblrs if you'd like :)  
> http://al-grito-de-guerra.tumblr.com/  
> https://kittythegamer293.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> Well that's where we are to start off, thank you for reading and I hope that this rare pair put a smile on your face ;)  
> As always, any and all criticism is welcomed and much appreciated


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